


and then i think i hear angels in my ears

by badritual



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Vessel Emotional Trauma, Angel-Related Angst, Angst, Character Study, Don't copy to another site, Drabble, Gen, Not Beta Read, manipulative angels, the heavenly host are dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual
Summary: Jakub had been the one to call on the angel Castiel, but Klara was the one He’d chosen as His vessel.
Relationships: Castiel & Castiel's Female Vessel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	and then i think i hear angels in my ears

**Author's Note:**

> i started toying around with the idea that cas's female vessel was an ancestor of Jimmy Novak. 
> 
> Title from "Wild Sage," by the Mountain Goats.

Jakub had been the one to call on the angel Castiel, but Klara was the one He’d chosen as His vessel. 

Little Jakub had been too weak, too sickly. His frail, tiny body wouldn’t have been able to contain a powerful being of pure light such as Castiel. Or, at least, that is what Castiel had told Klara when He—it?—came to her and bade her to let Him in. 

Surely Klara, as the eldest, would accept this burden on her brother’s behalf. Surely Klara, as the eldest, would spare her parents the pain of losing Jakub so soon after losing Josef and Marta, for little Jakub would never survive such a curse. As much as Jakub had wanted Castiel to deliver him of his illness, this was a bridge too far. 

And so Castiel came upon Klara in a blaze of light, suffusing her body, spilling in through her eyes and mouth. 

The angel Castiel filled every inch of her with His awesome glory, and then Klara herself simply ceased to be.

* * *

It felt like being put to sleep with one of Mama’s draughts, only…different. She’d been conscious the whole time, she remembered, as if viewing the world through a gossamer curtain. Beautiful and shimmering, and yet lying just beyond her reach.

When Klara had reached out, in her mind, to touch the curtain, Castiel had reprimanded her. 

_The veil protects you_ , His voice had thundered. The ground had quaked underfoot. 

Klara pulled back, aching from the sting of His words. _From what?_

_My Power,_ said the angel Castiel. _Human minds are too fragile to comprehend it._

Klara sensed some truth to the words, but felt there was something the angel was withholding yet. _That’s not all of it_ , she’d countered.

The angel had fallen silent. After a long pause, He answered: _No. It is not._

And then the heavenly curtain dropped and Klara knew no more.

* * *

Klara woke on a river bank, dressed in a tan coat that was not hers. A blue bow sat askew in her unkempt brown hair, and her skirts were torn and stained with blood. The only sound she could hear was the rush of water over rocks. 

When she reached for Castiel in her mind, she felt nothing. There was an aching hollow carved out of the center of her, leaving her off-kilter. 

Klara’s center of gravity was gone. 

She staggered home to her parents and to Jakub. To the one for whom she’d taken on this burden. 

When Mama asked her where she’d been all this time, Klara had no answers for her. Only the emptiness that now sits in her chest like a living thing.

* * *

Sometimes, after she’s rocked James to sleep and Henry has finally dozed off beside her, Klara crawls out of bed and creeps up to the attic. 

There, she sits in front of her faded hope chest and runs her hands over her name stitched onto the cushion with thread now fraying. 

**Klara Sofia Nowak**

She opens the chest and pulls out the tan coat, now stiff and yellowed with age and with blood. 

When she touches the coat, sometimes she feels a tiny jolt. A memory of Castiel sparking through her fingertips and singing through her blood. 

Sometimes, when she curls up in front of the hope chest with her old bloodied coat, she doesn’t feel so empty. 

Sometimes, she sees Castiel when she dreams.


End file.
